Understanding
by QueenAllie
Summary: Rated R for a reason. It's a KaiJou I wrote for a challenge. It seems that there is a bit of a softer side to Seto after all...


This is a Seto/Jou that I wrote for a challenge. It has absolutely no dialogue. di·a·logue n. A conversation between two or more people. Now, this is not suitable for children. It is yaoi to the full extent of its definition. If you don't like the thought of guy/guy, they made a back button for a reason. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy. It's my first attempt past a mild lime. As usual, I totally love reviews, and any and all flamers will be used to burn my homework. Then I'll have some form of an excuse. ^^;;  
  
Understanding  
  
~Seto's POV~  
  
I don't generally leave school out the back doors, but I had to drive to school today. I had a 'meeting' with Mr. Zurmann about how I really don't need to do the budget project in Economics at all. I brought in some of my budget reports from Kaiba Corp as evidence of that. He agreed of course. But, because of that, Mokuba would have been picked up after me, late, and that will never happen.  
  
I shove my hands in my pockets as I stalk through the snow toward my car. I have so much to do and that meeting lasted longer than it should have. I actually had to convince the ignorant fool why it would be better this way.  
  
A noise comes form my left and I absently look to see what it was. I see a familiar shock of blond hair and begin to smirk. On your hands and knees in the snow Joey Wheeler? And you wonder why I call you a mutt.  
  
Cracks start going through my mind as I try and determine whether or not it's worth my time to bother you. But I stop dead when you cough and the snow beneath you becomes tainted with blood. With a shuddering gasp your arms give out and you fall face first into the snow.  
  
Memories of being left where I fell after a beating float to the surface, and for some damn reason I can't bring myself to leave you where you lay.  
  
Carefully, after making sure no one else was around to help, I bend down and gather you into my arms. You're nowhere near as tall as me, but you must weigh the same as me. It's a good thing you passed out so close to my car because, possibility of death or not, I would have left you.  
  
I maneuver around you in my arms, and manage to get the passenger door open. I place you in the seat and buckle you in. Shutting the door quietly, I walk around to my side, and climb in. I really can't believe I'm doing this. I can't take you to the hospital, they'll know who I am and some one will leak a story of how Seto Kaiba brought a bruised and battered boy in. I start the engine and stare past the windshield. Damn. The only place really, is my house.  
  
You had to pick today to get the crap beat out of you, didn't you Joey? I cast a sharp glance at you, and then sigh as I lay the seat back. People can't see you in the car with me, especially in this condition. I pull out of the parking lot and head for home, mentally bitching at you, then switching and kicking myself for actually doing this. With a quick glance at you, I make a call to be sure Mokuba won't be there to greet me when I get home. He doesn't need to see you in this state. No one should.  
  
I pull into the drive and leave the car running in park as I remove you from the seat and walk toward the door. Someone will get the car, and our school things can wait. Your condition is more important right now.  
  
I reach the door and my butler opens it for me. Ignoring the look I get from him, I head straight up the stairs to my room and set you on my bed. I take a moment to catch my breath, and am amazed you haven't woken up yet.  
  
I reach out and lightly run my thumb across your bottom lip, it comes back bloody. It must be swollen because it's busted. I absently wipe the blood off on my pants. There's a cut on your cheek that is still bleeding a bit too. Who did this to you?  
  
Leaving you where you lay, I walk into my large bathroom and pull a rather extensive first aide kit out from under the sink, and turn back the door. It's going to be harder bandaging you up than it was when I did it to myself years ago. I usually did something to deserve that pain, but you might not have done anything wrong.  
  
I force myself to enter my bedroom once more and cross to the bed. Knowing the craven fools who attend our school, and the fact that you coughed up blood, I can bet they kicked you when you were down. With a slight hesitation I remove your top, and flinch at the large bruise on your side. You'll be lucky if none of your ribs broke.  
  
I run my fingers across your sides as I check for any broken ribs. I can't believe how warm you are, I'm still cold from outside. A rib may be fractured, so I grab some extra strength gauze to wrap around your stomach to ensure its structure.  
  
I climb onto the bed and scoot under you, trying to place you in a sitting position. I begin to wrap it around your chest rather tight and you stir. Probably from the pain. I secure the gauze and climb off the bed to see how it turned out. The bruise is covered as well, so hopefully that bleeding will stop.  
  
Looking at your still form I run my fingers down one of your arms. There's no way you could have earned so many bruises. Such beautiful skin marred by such ugly scars.  
  
Beautiful?!  
  
I take a step back and my eyes widen. Beautiful... I run my fingers through the blond hair that sits so untidily on the top of your head, and remember your soft brown eyes. You're actually not that bad when your mouth isn't running. Wait... Do I actually like you?  
  
Before I can freak out more, your eyes flutter open. Your gaze takes in me standing there, the first aid kit on the floor beside me, and then your bandaged chest. A flush fills your cheeks and you pointedly look away.  
  
Fine, let your pride keep your mouth shut. I like you better that way. I'm still going to finish what I started though. I grab the antibiotic ointment for your cuts, and sit on the bed beside you.  
  
I take your chin in my hand and pull your face to me as I get a better look at the cut on your cheek. You pull out of my hand and I fight not to yell at you. I get some of the medicine and pull your chin back to me. I rub the ointment onto the cut as you glare at the ceiling, the humiliation evident in your eyes. You don't know how lucky you are. I wish I had had someone to patch me up when I needed it.  
  
Unconsciously, my touch softens as I remember those nights I had to look after my own cuts and bruises. I didn't have anyone who could help me, enemy or no. My hand stops where it is and I focus on your face.  
  
You're holding my hand to your cheek, looking at me in wonder. What's wrong mutt? Shocked to learn I'm not a completely heartless bastard? You don't let go of my gaze and the tension in the room grows, but not out of anger. Is it wrong that I want you like this? Hurt, vulnerable, scared. I want to master your fears... rule you...  
  
My control snaps, and I press our lips together. Your whimper of pain reminds me of your cut lip, but as I try to pull back, you grab my hair and hold me down. You press pass my lips and rub our tongues together. The taste makes my head spin, and I plunge into your mouth desperately trying to memorize you from the inside out.  
  
Our hands roam over each other, and I take special care to avoid the area around your hurt rib. My shirt soon finds its way to the floor, but I don't want to go much further because of your injuries. You have other things in mind as you move to my neck and grind into me.  
  
Any and all reason I had leaves me, and I begin removing your belt. I miss your addictive taste, however, so I direct your hands to your jeans as I plunder your mouth once more. I remove my slacks and boxers and carelessly throw them to the side. I hear your pants and belt hit the floor as I lick the cut on your lip. A hint of copper.....  
  
I move to your neck, kissing, licking, nibbling, but you want no more stalling. You spread your legs under me and guide my hand to your inner thigh.  
  
Hoping to distract you, I run my tongue across one of your nipples as I insert a finger in you. The gasp my two actions elicit is melodious. I move to the other nipple as I enter my second finger, hoping to hear that sound again.  
  
I begin stretching you carefully, and move to claim your mouth once more as I insert a third finger. You're rocking your hips and moaning around my kisses. I can't take it anymore. I have to be in you now. I have to own you.  
  
I remove my fingers and hesitate slightly before entering you in one slow, steady motion. You fight the tensing of your muscles brought on by pain as tears leak out of the corner of your eyes, and I begin to feel guilty because, unlike all the rest, I am the cause of this pain.  
  
I rain kisses down on your face as I wait for you to relax. You've felt too much pain, already; all I want you to feel now is pleasure. No more pain.  
  
Testing you, I move my hips slightly, causing friction, and the moan that escapes your swollen lips is all the assent I need. I continue moving, slowly at first, but building in speed, you matching me thrust for thrust, until I feel the end nearing.  
  
I slide my hand down your stomach to grasp your erection and begin stroking it rapidly. I need you there with me.  
  
You press your forehead into my shoulder, whimpering as your climax approaches. I adjust my angle as I aim for the spot that should make you scream. And it does. Your head snaps back as you arch into me, a scream torn from your throat. The feeling of you climaxing around me, and the look on your face pushes me over the edge, and I collapse onto your still trembling body.  
  
I remove myself from you, but take care not to let go of you. I don't know why I never saw it until today. We're so alike, you and I.  
  
The same fierce pride. The drive to win. The loyal protectiveness. And now I know about the pain and scars you hide from everyone. Scars not unlike the ones I carry.  
  
I pull back to look into those honey eyes of yours. I feel the need to protect you now. To keep you safe and patch up your wounds.  
  
You look back at me, your eyes sparkling with an inner light. Emotions shine on the surface, and I know what you're feeling. You open your mouth, but I place my hand on your soft lips.  
  
You don't need to say anything. I already know, because, for the first time, I understand you Joey. I truly understand.  
  
I just can't not have it cute. It's one of my faults. ^__^ Anyway, be sure to review! Thanks! 


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